


And The Rest Will Follow

by yuletide_archivist



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spend one minute--and this is your last minute, remember--feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Rest Will Follow

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to sundancekid for the beta!
> 
> Written for smirnoffmule

 

 

Sunlight pushed over the sill and through the window of Lyra's room. It streamed through the thin curtains onto the far wall, first, and slowly inched its way onto her bed, onto her sleeping face. She stirred but didn't turn away, and eventually the light pulled her into wakefulness.

 _Will_ , she thought hazily, and stretched out one arm to find him. By the time she touched fur instead of skin, she remembered, and shoved the thought away. "Pan," she said instead, and opened her eyes.

Pantalaimon burrowed close under the sheets with her. Lyra wrapped her arms around him and buried her nose in his warm fur. He nuzzled against her, and for a while, they were quiet.

"We need to get up," he said eventually. He twisted his head and nudged her cheek with his cold nose. Lyra wrinkled her own in return and rubbed her cheek on her shoulder.

"I know." She pushed the blankets down to her waist and sat up. Pan crawled into her lap as she reached under the pillow. The velvet bundle there had warmed as she slept. She pulled it out and moved the fabric aside, only checking: the alethiometer was still there, shining and unharmed. Lyra rewrapped it and laid it on top of her pillow when she stepped out of bed.

Pan curled around the alethiometer while she rinsed her face and mouth, then combed her hair and tied it at the nape of her neck.

"Do you think today's lesson will be any better than the last one?" she asked.

Pan flicked the tip of his tail. "Maybe," he said. "Dame Hannah probably wants us to work on our frame of mind more."

Lyra frowned. "Probably." She went to her closet and dressed hurriedly against the chill: a wool sweater, a green skirt, thick stockings. "I hate having to work so hard at it."

"Once we learn it again, it won't be so hard."

"You sound just like her." Lyra sat back down on the bed again and reached under the pillow. Pan shifted slightly so she could pull out a strap of leather about as wide as her hand, as long as one of her arms. "I en't saying I won't do it. I don't like needing to do it, is all."

"That's how it is, though." Pan stood and stretched, shrug-like, then hopped lightly to the floor and stood by the door. "We'll be late for breakfast," he said, and kept busy grooming himself until Lyra was ready. She pushed her skirt out of the way and wound the leather around her thigh. A pocket with a flap was sewn onto one side of the strap, and a buckle dangled from the very end. Lyra slid the alethiometer into the pocket and pulled the other end of the strap through the buckle. After fastening it, she wound the leather around her leg before tucking the tip away, between her leg and the strap. She stood and swished her skirt from side to side; the hem danced around her knees, but the alethiometer wasn't visible. Satisfied, Lyra scooped Pan into her arms. It surprised her, from time to time, that his weight was now constant. She sometimes expected him to change again, when she was excited or upset, but he remained a pine marten no matter how she felt. He nosed her out of her thoughts and she walked purposefully to the dining hall.

Meals at St. Sophia were entirely different than meals at Jordan. There, Lyra had never eaten with the same group of people two days in a row. She might spend breakfast pestering a group of Scholars, then be tracked down for lunch with the Master and his guests, and then take supper in the kitchens, with the servants. If she was out in Oxford, she stopped at whichever stall smelled the best. Sometimes she could talk herself into free food, sometimes she had a bit of money to spend, and once or twice she stole when the shopkeeper looked the other way. She ate on benches and walls, under trees, in alleys and on doorsteps, and it was always different.

But here, meals were a regular affair. The girls sat at round tables of eight. No one was assigned a seat, but the students kept to the groups in which they took classes. They ate with girls their own age, and a year older, and a year younger. The long adult's table stretched across the far end of the room, under a row of windows. The teachers sat with their backs to the wall and kept watch over the girls while they ate.

The hall was about half-full when Lyra and Pantalaimon entered. Sunlight poured through the wall of windows, and as always, Lyra slowed her pace and blinked against the brightness. She walked to their usual table, near the middle of the hall, where Anna and Maria already sat.

"Food's not out yet?" Lyra asked, and pulled out a chair.

Maria shook her head. "It's never out now. You're earlier than usual."

"I am?" Lyra checked where the light hit the wall. "I didn't wake up early, though."

"Maybe you just went fast," Anna said, and gestured to an empty chair next to Lyra. "See, Lucy's not here, either."

"She was still in bed when I came down." Maria's daemon changed from a mouse to a snake and slithered up her arm. As young girls, the students lived in rooms of four. Only once a girl's daemon settled did she move to a single room.

"She'll miss the good food, then." Lyra turned to look towards the worker's door, where servants entered with steaming trays. "I dunno why you'd wait when it's hot now."

"Dunno," Anna repeated, and shrugged. The girls ate quickly and then milled around the courtyard before the day's first lesson. Lyra checked the alethiometer throughout the morning's lecture on literature, and during lunch. Pan tried to bat her fingers away from it in their first afternoon class, arithmetic and gravitation, but she didn't leave it alone until they broke from their classmates and went to Dame Hannah's office.

"Have you ever heard of mediation?" Dame Hannah asked once they were settled. She folded her hands on her desk and watched Lyra, in the chair across from her.

"Once or twice," Lyra lied, automatically. "The witches talked about it." Pantalaimon nipped her fingers warningly, and Lyra paused before continuing. "I guess I don't really remember what it is, though."

Dame Hannah nodded. "People meditate for many reasons," she said, "but one goal is a clearing of the mind, which may help you in reading the alethiometer."

"How does it work?" Lyra asked. She leaned forward.

"I said there are many reasons to meditate, yes?" Lyra nodded and Dame Hannah continued. "There are likely as many ways of doing it. We shall clear the mind by ignoring the mind, and focusing instead on the body."

"How?" Lyra repeated.

"Find a position in the chair where you're comfortable." Dame Hannah leaned back and her daemon crawled into her lap. "Your daemon, too."

Lyra fidgeted for a few moments and eventually hitched up her skirt to sit cross-legged. Pan curled himself in her lap, where the fabric pulled tautly. Lyra moved from side to side, and when nothing twinged or hurt, she met Dame Hannah's gaze again.

"What next?"

"Close your eyes and we'll start."

Lyra glanced once around the room and then shut her eyes.

"Just listen to what I say, and do it. It may seem silly or foolish at first, but give it a chance."

Lyra nodded, then realized that Dame Hannah couldn't see, if her eyes were closed as well. "Are you doing it, too?"

"Yes." With her eyes closed, Lyra could hear the smaller, ordinary sounds in the room. Dame Hannah swallowed before continuing. "Do you remember how it used to feel, to read the alethiometer?"

"Of course," Lyra said. She shifted slightly in her seat, and her skirt slid softly against itself.

"Try not to move, please. You don't need to be completely motionless for this, but distractions will make it more difficult," said Dame Hannah. Lyra made a face, but Dame Hannah went on. "You're trying to put yourself back into that state of mind, but don't push for it. Let it come, if it does, and don't worry if it doesn't."

"Mmm." _I know that already_ , Lyra thought.

"Then let's begin." Dame Hannah swallowed again, licked her lips. "I'd like you to imagine that you only have one minute left to live. Your death will be fast and painless, but it is coming in one minute. You don't have time to write a letter, or send a message, or talk to someone. All you have left is your body, and your daemon. Don't think. Focus on your body. Spend one minute--and this is your last minute, remember--feeling."

In her lap, Pan's fur bristled, but Lyra frowned in concentration and tried to feel herself. She focused on her breathing, the way her chest smoothly rose and fell--but that was nothing like her panicked gasps on Bolvangar, being torn from Pan and forced into the cage in such a terror she could barely breathe at all--

Lyra shook her head slightly, clearing it, and began again. Her arms, her arms around Pan were solid, and her skin warm but not hot--but that was nothing like struggling towards that temple under that baking sun, with Pan tugging her forward and a murderous mob behind, worry and fear holding her back--

She swallowed and frowned, bit her lip. Her teeth pressed into the flesh for a moment before she let go. She let her mouth continue to open until it hung slack, and inhaled. Air rushed coolly over her tongue, drying her mouth--but that was nothing like screaming as she fell to the abyss, handholds crumbling underfoot and darkness all around, and Will screaming above--

Lyra snapped her eyes open to find Dame Hannah watching her.

"That's mediation?" Lyra asked. She scrubbed her face with one hand. Her heart raced in her chest. "Really?"

"It's a way of beginning mediation, for novices," Dame Hannah answered. "What did you think about it?"

"Where did you learn that exercise?" Lyra asked. She noticed Pan standing on his hind legs in her lap, pressing his face against her neck, and she wrapped her arms tight around him. "It's not--I don't think it's--" She blew a strand of hair away from her face. "Only, I've _been_ about to die, see? And it en't calming or relaxing, or a good thing at all. Maybe I wasn't thinking, but that was only because I was so scared I couldn't think, an' I was usually hurt, or tired, or hungry, or something on top of it all, an'--" Lyra broke off and shook her head. Pan nuzzled her jaw and she stroked his fur silently. "It don't work the way you want, least not for me," she said finally.

Dame Hannah was quiet for a time. When she spoke, her voice was low. "There are other ways we can try, of course, if you'd rather. But I do think a variation of this method would be most useful." Lyra scowled. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"No," Lyra said. Pan slid back to her lap and she tucked her fingers underneath him.

"Why were you scared, when you thought you were going to die?"

Lyra glanced up incredulously. "Because I thought I was going to die." Dame Hannah raised her eyebrows, and Lyra thought, and then continued. "I didn't know what was going to happen."

"Is that different now?"

"Well, yeah," Lyra said slowly. "Pan'll die when I do, but I know that I'll go on, and be able to see--" She shook her head slightly and continued. "See people, an' wait for them, if I need, and then I know it'll be good, at the end of everything."

Dame Hannah nodded. "What will the main difference be, between being alive and being newly dead?"

"Pan," Lyra said. She pulled him to her chest again. "I'll go on for a while after we die, but Pan won't."

She nodded again and studied the top of her desk, stroking her thumb over the head of her daemon, a marmoset. When she looked up again, she smiled at Lyra. "Thank you for your honesty," she said. "I have an idea for something we can do differently. Are you willing to try again?"

"Course." Lyra unfolded her legs and placed her feet carefully on the floor.

"Alright." Dame Hannah closed her eyes and smiled. "Close your eyes again, and follow my instructions."

Lyra shut her eyes hesitantly.

"This is going to be similar to what we did last time, but different," Dame Hannah said. "Imagine you will die in one minute, easily and peacefully. You know that death is nothing frightening, but you only have one minute left with your daemon." Lyra's hold on Pan tightened again, and then slowly relaxed. "Focus on your connection. Don't think about him, but just feel. Make this one minute something worth treasuring."

Pantalaimon twisted in Lyra's arms and pressed his face against her heart. Lyra wrapped her fingers in his fur, soft and familiar, and tried not to think of anything but Pan. His weight in her lap warmed her legs better than her winter clothing. He nuzzled against her sweater and she felt his unease: this was a preview of events to come. Their last minute together lay somewhere in their shared future. Lyra lifted Pan towards her face, kissed him, and sent a flood of emotions-- _love, safety, home_ \--to him. She waited, motionless and thoughtless, until the same feelings came, strengthened, back to her.

Lyra opened her eyes slowly, with her hands still deep in Pan's fur and his body tight against hers.

"Was that better?" Dame Hannah asked softly.

"Yes," Lyra said, then reconsidered. "And no. It wasn't as hard to think about, I guess, but I didn't get close to where I could read the alethiometer."

"I didn't expect you to on your first try." Dame Hannah extended her hand to the desk, and her daemon ran down her arm to sit upon a stack of paper. "I would like you to keep practicing, though, every night before bed. Do whichever exercise feels easiest--and you don't need to include the part about death, if that makes it more difficult," she added, seeing Lyra's face contort. "Just spend some time focusing on your body, or your daemon, instead of thinking. Try to clear your mind."

Lyra nodded and slid one hand to her thigh, over the slight bump of the alethiometer under her skirt. She was ready to take it out when Dame Hannah stood and looked pointedly towards the door.

"I think that's enough for today," she said. "Practice, and we'll meet again next week."

Disappointed, Lyra dawdled on her way out. Her lessons with Dame Hannah usually took the place of a free study period, and Lyra rejoined her classmates at their last class. Her class was still in the library when she walked past, though. Lyra hesitated slightly, in front of the door, but then kept going. She hadn't yet learned all of St. Sophia's secrets and hiding places, but she did know a few.

Lyra walked past the empty dining hall and along the narrow corridor that led to the kitchens. She stopped into front of a window and climbed up onto the wide sill, then pulled the curtains to cover herself. The window faced west, and though clouds now hid the sun, there was enough light. Lyra slid the velvet package out from under her skirt and cradled the alethiometer. Pan sat facing her, his chin resting on her knees. The needle circled the alethiometer's face, and she watched without trying to control it.

"Should we keep trying it?" she asked.

Pan huffed. "Well, did it work?"

"Not exactly..." Lyra leaned her head against the wall; she looked up at the ceiling, away from the alethiometer, and away from Pan. "I dunno, though. I don't think I can tell this early."

"You want to do it again," Pan said. He pulled his head away from her legs.

"I want to find something that works," Lyra said simply. "You said this morning, it'd get easier after we learn how." She glanced down at him. "We can try the first way, if you want."

"The first way upset you." Pan looked out the window. "The second way was better. You stopped thinking, like she said, with that one."

"But that way upset _you_ ," Lyra said. She stroked one hand down Pan's back. "Maybe we ignore the death bit, like she said."

He arched, very slightly, into the touch. "Think it'd work?"

Lyra shrugged. "Maybe eventually." She laid the alethiometer on the ledge beside her and pulled Pantalaimon into her lap. He rested his head against her collarbone. "She said there were other ways. We could do those instead."

Pan stayed quiet for a while. "Let's try this one until the next lesson," he said eventually, slowly. "If it's too bad, we'll ask for another."

"Alright," Lyra agreed. They sat in the window until the sun dipped below the trees lining the school's courtyard. Lyra stretched her legs out then and raised her arms over her head. Pan stepped away from her and watched as she worked the alethiometer back into place.

They stood in the corridor until Lyra heard girls filling the dining hall. She made her way to her table and ate as the other girls made conversation.

"But where were you during class today, Lyra?" Anna asked at one point. Her daemon, now a sparrow, hopped around her plate as she ate.

"Dame Hannah's," Lyra said. She took a large bite of potatoes in hopes of avoiding any further questions, but Anna kept going.

"What do you do with her, all the time?"

Lyra made a show of carefully chewing and swallowing. "Just lessons." She could think of a number of stories to spin--advanced instruction, foreign languages, ancient and secret history, experimental theology--but was spared the necessity by Pan, who poked his head over the table and growled low.

"'kay," Anna said easily. Her daemon flew to her shoulder and picked at her hair. Lyra smiled tightly at her and they both continued with the meal.

Lyra eased off the alethiometer's strap when she and Pan were back in their room for the night. The newly exposed skin itched a little as her nightgown drifted over it, but she ignored the feeling and climbed into bed. Pan perched on the side of the mattress as she pushed her feet under the covers and the alethiometer under the pillow.

"Are you going to try it now?" he asked, once she'd turned off the light and settled into bed. She reached a hand towards him and he moved to curl into her armpit.

"We did it once today already," she said. "I figured I'd wait until tomorrow."

"Mmm." Pan rubbed his face against her. "I won't argue with that."

"And you're sure you want me to try?"

Pan sighed. "I'm sure I don't want to do it again. But if it works, it works." He turned his head to look at her. "We need something that works."

"Yeah," she said, and pulled him closer. Pan shifted slightly, resting his head on her chest, and she stroked his fur with both hands. He pressed himself into the touch and then sank further against her body. Lyra kept rubbing him. She closed her eyes and smiled, happy to give him comfort, happy to have him and to touch him.

The moon rose and light spilled into Lyra's room. She rolled away to keep her face from the darkness. _Pan_ , she thought, as she drifted to sleep, and her fingers tightened in his fur.

 


End file.
